


Buckets of Crazy

by orphan_account



Series: Angel's are a Pain in the Ass (literally) [1]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Funny, Impala, M/M, Maybe during season 5?, No Spoilers, Porn With Plot, Resolved Feelings, Sex in the Impala, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:36:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with little things at first, and if it'd been anyone else, Dean probably wouldn't have noticed. But this was Cas, and Dean knew him well... And he knew that Cas didn’t say that kind of thing.</p><p>In which Gabriel is bored of Cas and Deans sexual tension and decides to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is un Beta'd, so read at your own risk and all mistakes are mine!  
> Set around some time during Season five, but no spoilers.  
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set around some time during Season five, but no spoilers.  
> This has now been beta'd, you can find their wonderful Tumblr here http://colourful-suns-dripping-with-luv.tumblr.com/ Thank you so much!  
> Enjoy!

It started with little things at first- and if it’d been anyone else, Dean probably wouldn’t have noticed. But this was Cas he was talking about and Dean knew that dorky little angel well... And he knew that Cas didn’t say _that kind of thing._

They were only small things to begin with, and the first few times Dean almost missed them.

Dean remember when he’d been sitting on his bed, cleaning one of his guns and he _swore_ he heard Cas mutter, " _oh, you do know how to handle a large weapon, don’t you?’"_

Dean had almost choked with surprise, but when he turned around to say something Cas had been busy pursuing an old lore book, nose buried between the dusty pages and hand't looked like he had moved in days.

 It was all small phrases and comments thrown out when Dean turned away, causing him to pause, look back over his shoulder, only to be met with a questioning or oblivious gaze. Sometimes he would turn around and Cas was giving him the most suspicious looks, and just wouldn’t stop staring, eyes narrowed and a small frown creasing his forehead.  Dean decided not to mention it; maybe Cas was just trying to develop a more human sense of humour, and was testing out some jokes he’d heard.

Until, that was, it couldn’t really be ignored anymore.

Cas had come to warn them about a large group of demons he’d spotted three towns over, and had flown off to keep an eye on them with a promised to keep the brothers updated if he saw anything. Sam had left Dean alone in their room to buy some more rock salt, as Dean had used up the last of their supply in making more shotgun rounds.

He had been sitting at a small rickety table, working away quietly and meticulously, when Cas had reappeared.

“Cas, you ok?” Dean had asked, looking up in concern. Cas had stared down at him, and reached over slowly to one of the tables in the dingy motel, picking up the angel blade that Dean hadn’t notice him leave.

“Wouldn’t want to go anywhere without this,” he said in a low voice as he began to slide his hand obscenely down the shaft of the blade, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips as he did. Dean had gone hoarse, his eyes following the slow movement of Cas’ hand as it made its way down the long instrument. As he reached the end, Dean looked up into Cas’ eyes. They held eye contact for several long moments, before Cas’ lips twisted into a smirk and with a wink had disappeared.

Dean was still staring at the space Cas had been standing in when Sam walk noisily back through their motel room door, and was only able to croak a reply when he was asked what was wrong. Dean excused himself quickly to go and take a shower. A cold one.

But who could Dean tell? Ask about _this_ kind of situation?

_Hey, Sammy, do you think Castiel’s been acting oddly recently?_

_Odd how, Dean?_

_Oh, like flirting and dirty comments?_

Or maybe call up Bobby, ‘ _Oh, Bobby, no big deal, but Cas has been kinda hitting on me recently, what do you think that means?’_

Dean mentally chastised himself at such stupid thoughts.  Perhaps he should ask Cas about it and try to explain that what he was doing was inappropriate, and ask him to stop. But did Dean _want_ it to stop? A tiny part of Dean, hidden right at the back of his brain (near the part that remembered all the lyrics to sappy love songs) was secretly enjoying the attention and little remarks.

 He couldn't really deny either that he liked the way Cas invaded his personal space, no matter how much he pretended otherwise. He liked the extended eye contact, no matter how much Sammy complained. He’d felt like this for a long time, learnt to except and ignore it, but that was getting more and more difficult to do these days.  He would never act on any of these, uh, _feelings-_  for lack of a better word- of course, like he would never sing along to any of those crappy songs, but that didn't stop him from feeling them.

But most of the time Castiel acted completely normally, going for long periods of time without so much as a cheeky smile. During these times Dean managed to convince himself that he’d imagined it all, or was making it into a bigger deal than it really was.

Until _that_ night...                                                                                                                                     

Dean had gone to a local bar for the evening, leaving Sam to get on with whatever Sam did when they were between hunts.

He was on his second beer and was just considering his chances with the cute blond on the other side of the bar, when Cas slid onto the stool next to him. Cas didn't often join Dean when he was at a bar, or when they weren't working on something, so Dean was surprised, but pleased, to see him.

"Cas!" He greeted him cheerfully, slapping him on the back, causing Cas to slide slightly off his bar stool. Cas greeted Dean differently than usually, smiling widely and showing too much teeth, before leaning across the bar and ordering a beer.

Dean turned to face Cas properly, an expectant expression on his face,"you got something you need help with?" he asked, thinking Cas had come to ask some advice on an issue or needed his and Sam’s help in whatever he was trying to do at the moment.

Cas shrugged, such an human action seeming odd on him, like an ill fitting coat. Dean noticed that it was much less jerky than usually. Dean wondered if Cas had been practising. He decided not to ask.

“No,” Cas replied easily, tapping his fingers on the edge of the cool beer that had just been placed in front of him, "just thought I’d come and join you for the evening... I don’t need to have a reason to, do I?"

Dean was slightly taken aback, he hadn’t meant to offended Cas, quickly replying, “No, of course not, I just- you don’t usually join me...” he trailed off towards the end, running a hand through his hair distractedly.

Cas settled down more onto the stool, relaxing slightly, saying in an offhand way, “then I’ll just have to more often.” He shot Dean a slight smirk, on the verge of being seductive, his eyes roaming over him. Dean looked away quickly, taking a hurried sip from his beer, unable to watch Cas’ eyes flick over his face, lingering on his mouth.

Cas held his beer up, turning to Dean and saying, “Cheers,” Dean clinked his almost half empty glass against Cas’ full, asking casually, “what’s the toast to?”

 Cas considered for a moment, before replying, “The apocalypse? Living like everyday could be your last?”

 Dean snorted into his beer as went to take a gulp, “where did that come from?” he asked, eye brows raised as he wiped beer foam from his nose.  “I suppose Armageddon has that kind of an effect on someone,” he said in a low voice, reaching forward and wiping some of the beer foam Dean had missed off his cheek. Dean held his breath as Cas did, Cas’ touch lingering briefly, his thumb gently brushing down across the stubble on his chin.

Cas quirked his lips slightly, before pulling away, turning to the bar and calling out, “I think it’s time for shots!”

Things got a little blurry from that point on for Dean, he remembers his second and first round of shots, the third were a little hazy, the fourth were on fire and then Cas bought them both sweet, thick chocolaty martinis. He remembers seeing some lingering on Cas’ lips and wanting to lick it off, he would then deny, if you asked him, offering to do so, but the fact that the next moment he was then running his tongue gently over Castiel’s bottom lip would prove him wrong.

Dean then remembers with great detail how he pulled Cas towards him using the lapels of his coat and kissing him deeply, with feverish excitement. He did forget when they decided to leave the bar and ended up pressed against the boot of the Impala, but has a vague recollection of leading Cas by his tie, and then pulling it off him, along with his trench coat, jacket and shirt.

He pushed Cas up, so he was sitting on the Impalas trunk, so Cas was slightly higher than him, meaning he had to reach up to explore the man’s mouth. Their tongues tangling up, roaming and fighting for dominance. Dean was surprised at Cas’ skill, he had expected him to be more clumsy, as he couldn’t imagine that the angel had ever had much practise at this kind of thing. But clumsy the kiss was not; hot, powerful and possessive, yes, but not clumsy.

Dean was also surprised by Cas’ taste. He hadn’t expected him to taste so sweet, but he wondered whether that was just the left over taste of the shots and martini still lingering in Castile’s mouth. Dean thought that it was a powerful sweetness, verging on sickly and hoped that he wouldn’t always taste so intense the next time he kissed him. At the time, Dean didn’t spend a moment to realise that he wanted to do this again with Cas, that he’d been wanting to do this for so long. That this was something he never wanted to stop; he always wanted to have Castiel there and to be his.  

They found their way onto the back seats of the Impala, with considerably less clothing than they had had at the start of the night.

Dean pulled Cas down on top of him, breathing in deeply as he pressed his face into his neck. He smelled of sweet sweat, Dean tasted it, running his tongue down Cas’ neck, sucking and biting just above his shoulder blade, leaving a bruise blossoming on the pale skin.  Cas moaned deeply, grinding his hips against Dean’s, creating heat and friction between them. Dean gasped sharply, pushing down onto Cas trying to get more, feel more. Cas’ hands slowly closed around them both causing a high pitched whine to leave Dean.

After that Dean was lost to oblivion, ecstasy and stars blinding him, his heart beat fast and breathing rapid as he shouted Cas’ name and heard Cas shouting his back.

Moments, or possibly years later, Dean opened his eyes, to see Cas lying close next to him, propped up on his elbow, with a smug and scheming look plastered across his face, his hair sticking up in every direction. “You enjoyed that didn’t you, Dean?” He said in a tone very unlike his own, almost accusatory. “You’d want to do that again, I’d say. Because you like Castiel.” Dean sat up hurriedly, his expression turning from confusion into worry as he began to panic.  

“I- what-”  he began before he stopped dead. Castiel wasn’t lying next to him anymore. Dean stared down in horror into a golden pair of eyes that was accompanied by a huge smirk plastered all across the owners face.

“You- how-” Dean spluttered, beginning to realise what had happened. Gabriel grinned up at him, with an evil glint in his eyes.  

“How Dean? Oh, it was very easy,” He said, relaxing and stretching out to lean against the car door. He folded his arms behind his head, saying with a nod, “arch angel, and all.”

“Why?” Dean spat out, anger boiling up inside him, starting to eclipse his disgust. “And for the _love of God_ , put some pants on!”

“I can assure you, my father could really not care less about the fact I’m sitting butt naked in the back of your car.” Gabriel said smoothly, with a hint of displeasure causing his lips to curl into a brief snarl.  

Dean winced, closing his eyes, and muttering under his breath, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Gabriel made a show of shifting around his legs as he got more comfortable. Dean had to fight down the urge not to retch.

Dean grabbed his jacket, which had gotten caught on the steering wheel, and try to cover himself up to try and hide his modesty. Gabriel’s staring was making him feel uncomfortable.

Dean glared at Gabriel, repeating loudly, “Why did you do this, you goddamn son of a bitch?”

“Because you were taking _sooo_ long,” Gabriel whined throwing his hands in the air, “the constant eye fucking, the sexual tension, it was like watching a shitty chick flick that just _wouldn’t end.”_

“What the hell do you mean?” Dean snapped, doing his best to look angry whilst at the same time covering himself up.

“For Dads sake! He still doesn’t get it!” Gabriel complained his eyes wide with disbelief. “You two are madly in love!” He huffed loudly, “But neither of you were going to make a move, because you’re both so emotionally constipated! I just tried to... jump start the process a bit.”

Dean gasped in the most manliest way possible, “you were doing all of that stupid stuff weren’t you? Making me think I was hearing Cas say those things!” he shouted.

Gabriel threw his head back and laughed, his smile wide, “well, I thought I’d try and have some fun with it too. And don’t worry, Cas got his fair share of it too. But you still wouldn’t act!” Gabriel paused to enjoy the look of indignation of Dean’s face, “so I thought if I gave you a little taster, get you to see what you’re missing. Think of it as practise, getting you ready for the real thing.” And with one last smirk and wink, Gabriel was gone leaving behind a memory of the sound of a gentle breeze rustling through the branches of trees.

Dean groaned, dragging his hands down his face. He shivered, looking at himself in the rear view mirror. “I need a shower,” he growled, feeling unclean and having the sensation of being _soiled._ He looked around and at the back of the Impala. “So do you, baby” he added softly under his breath.

 

*     *     *     *     *     *      *         

 

Dean didn’t tell Sam. When he got back to the motel he made up some excuse about a blond chick, though wasn’t entirely convincing as he looked slightly sick, and quickly excused himself to take a shower. Dean washed himself thoroughly all over, and then did it twice more. Just to be sure.

Dean prayed to whatever God that probably wasn’t listening, that Gabriel wouldn’t ever tell Sam and he could keep this secret with him until his probable early grave.

There was only one person Dean told about it. He hadn’t meant to, it just sort of slipped out. And he ended up telling everything to this person anyway, so it seemed pointless to keep it a secret, they just didn’t do that.

It took him some time to finally pluck the courage up to finally confess himself to Cas, the first time he saw him after _the incident_ , as Dean mentally called it,  he freaked out and ended up babbling so much Cas had thought he’d been hexed. And then Cas had gone and disappeared like always did, leaving Dean alone with his big secret still bottled up inside.

Sam caught on after that though, he had privately always thought that Dean and Castiel’s _profound bond_ was verging so close to the edge of platonic that it was still only just hanging on by a very fine and stubborn thread, but after Dean’s slight break down it all became very painfully apparent. So, being the wonderful little brother he was, he told Dean to snap out of it and grow a pair; and the next time Cas was around made up an excuse to leave them by themselves in the motel and spent the day researching in the towns library.

It was tense after Sam had left, or at least Dean thought so. That might just have been him though, he considered as he tried to relax and discretely wipe the sweaty palms of his hands on his jeans.

“Cas,” he began. Cas continued to stare at him. Dean’s palms continued to sweat. He cough and tried again, “Cas,” He shook his head, trying to clear it of all the panic and images of Cas naked and splayed out on the motel bed. “Cas-”

“Dean, is there something you are trying to tell me?” Castiel asked flatly, tilting his head to the side.

“Uh, yeah, what gave it away?” Dean huffed, laughing awkwardly, ruffling up his hair as he looked down at his feet.

“Well, you were saying-” Cas began in his normal monotonal voice,

“Cas, Cas, no, just- Shit!” Dean swore loudly, slamming his fist down on the nearest table. Cas jumped, looking concerned.

Cas opened his mouth, about to say something, but Dean held up his hand. He crossed the room in three long strides and without hesitating or thinking of how bad an idea it could be, pulled Cas into a kiss. And it was perfect.

 Cas froze up, awkwardly standing immovably still, barely responding. He began to relax as Dean pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him, clutching onto the loose shoulders of his jacket.

Dean ran a tongue over Cas’ bottom lip. Cas didn’t do anything. Dean pulled away slightly, murmuring under his breath, “you, uh, you kinda have to open your mouth a bit.”

“Oh, sorry Dean. I’ll try to follow your lead.” Cas said, going slightly crossed eyed as he tried to keep Dean in focus at such close proximity.

They leaned back in, foreheads bumping together. Dean got butterflies. Castiel’s inexperience was perfect, and it just seemed _right._ This was Cas, not sexy and seductive, but clumsy, just trying to fit in and follow Deans example, looking to Dean to teach him and show him what to do, trusting him with even the most personal and intimate things.

Castiel opened his mouth, knocking teeth with Dean as they both moved tipped their chins forwards.  Dean groaned.

Castiels tongue was inelegant and inept; he shoved it into Dean’s mouth, not having any idea what to do with when it was there. Dean’s knees went weak.

And Castiel’s _taste._ This is what Dean had imagined, not too sweet, but with undertones. He had a fresh taste, like the taste of the wind whipping across a beach, the tang of salty brine, but clean and powerful. Dean felt like he could never get enough of that taste.

Limbs were everywhere, clothing ripped, buttons torn off, hair pulled, ribs elbowed, and it was the best sex Dean had ever had. They lay panting on the bed after, all the covers kicked off, and Cas still with his socks on. Dean rolled over to face him, Castiel had a smile frozen on his face, his eyes wide and glazed over as he recovered from their, frankly world shattering, orgasms. Dean couldn’t help it, he leaned over and smoothed down Cas’ messed up hair, making little difference, but the touched seemed to bring Cas back to his senses. He turned to face Dean, smiling even wider, if that were possible. Dean didn’t even realise that Cas could smile that wide.

“So, that was what I was trying to tell you,” Dean said, his voice croaky from all the shouting. Cas nodded, but then stopped. “I still don’t actually know what  you were trying to tell me. All you really said was ‘Cas’ ,‘Oh my God’ and you said ‘harder’ quite a few times-” he began.

“Yes, yes, thank you Cas, I was there.” Dean said, feeling a flush rising up his cheeks. He sighed, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. Cas lay and waited for Dean to speak, watching him think.

“I- I really like you Cas. I think I,” he paused, _now or never_ he thought to himself, took a breath and said all in one go, “I love you Cas.”

He cringed, closing his eyes and wincing at the sappy phrase. But when he opened his eyes Cas was still staring right to him, his eyes now round and tender.

“And I love you Dean.”

 


	2. Cas' Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of epilogue to Buckets of Crazy, because I had a lot of fun with this storyline.  
> Dean had told Cas all about his problems with Gabriel, and unfortunately he had taken it to his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Cas had really taken the whole ‘dirty talk’ idea to his head.

And usually Dean would be all aboard for dirty talk, but... Well, this is Cas we’re talking about.

And as good as his intensions are he just can’t seem to quite get the concept.

The first time it really took Dean by surprise. As well as Sam and Bobby.  And not to mention the demon Dean was about to kill.

Dean had it trapped up against a wall, his arm pinning it there, pressed across its neck. He pulled back the knife, and was about to plunge it into the demon’s heart, when Cas slipped up behind him and whispered loudly in his ear, “Yeah, stab it in deep, Dean. Get it right in there.”

Dean was so shocked he almost let the demon escape. Almost.

Dean turned around before the demon had even hit the floor.   
“Cas,” he said as he rested a hand gently on Cas' shoulder, and, choosing his words carefully said firmly, “I think we need to talk about the appropriateness of those kinds of comments,” he paused, running a dry tongue across his lips, “There is a time and place for them, but right now is not one of them,” Dean chanced a glance behind him. Bobby was staring out of the room’s dirty and smeared window, shaking his head slightly, and Dean was sure he heard him mutter _eijits_ under his breath. Sam on the other hand was trying to suppress his laughter, shoulders quaking and eyes screwed up. The attempt wasn't going well.   
Dean sighed, realising Sam was never going to let this go.   
Cas, who had been listening to Dean’s every word with a serious expression on his face, nodded like Dean had been giving advice on how best to slice off the head of a vampire, saying, “I will try to remember for the future, Dean. I am sorry; I did not mean to distract you so much.”  
Dean pointedly ignored the snorting coming from Sam’s direction of the room, the younger Winchester unable to stay silent any longer. Dean patted Cas' shoulder and smiled gently, “Don't worry about it,” he reassured, as Cas began to look guilty and slightly uncomfortable.

 Sam wandered over, clapping Cas on the back, saying far too cheerfully, “good try though, really got some potential there.”

Cas perked up a fraction.     
  
The next attempt was at a more appropriate time, but less of an appropriate comment.   
Dean and Cas were making the most of their Sam-free time, with Cas pressed firmly up against the motel door, having not wasted any time after politely, but firmly, insisting Sam had to go and get some more groceries from down at the store _right now_. Sam had wined, but hadn’t lingered.  
Cas was busy working on Dean's pant buttons, mouth occupied on his lower abdomen, when next moment he had pulled away with a teasing flick of his tongue and said, “wow, you're just as big as Crowley’s-”   
Dean choked over the low moan that was building at the back of his throat, spluttering, “dude, what the hell?!”  
“As big as Crowley’s blade,” Cas said innocently looking up at Dean, his eyes round and eager.   
“Cas, you don't mention another guy’s...” Dean paused to gesture down at his crotch, grimacing, “uh, _blade_ , when you're getting it on with another guy!”  
“Oh sorry Dean,” Cas said apologetically, still on his knees, biting his lower lip, “I thought it was customary and appreciated to compliment another man’s penis, especially in regard to size,” Cas tightened his grip on Dean’s thighs slightly as he said this, making Dean a weird and uncomfortable mix of arousal and exasperation. He rubbed his forehead, sighing, explaining to Cas, “it is, just not with a comparison to anything as much as a turn off as Crowley!”   
Confusion cleared from Cas' face, “ah! So If I were to say,” Cas looked down briefly, and when he looked back up his eyes were hooded, pupils blown wide with lust, “you're just as big as my blade.”  
“Better,” Dean murmured, considering briefly, there were definitely worse things to be compared to. Dean decided with a small smirk that Cas’ blade was something he had absolutely no problem being compared with .Dean leaned down to kiss Cas, as Cas said in a low gravelly, ferocious, and unfairly hot voice, “and it’s much more dangerous.”   
Dean’s knees gave way at these words, and he collapsed onto Cas with a pleased cry from the man underneath.

  
Sam decided that two and a half hours was plenty of time to let his brother and Cas get on and finish whatever they were doing, blocking all mental images of what that could be firmly out of his head.   
But Sam was wrong.   
Sam was so very wrong.   
Sam tried to push open the door of the motel room; but was unable to as it got stuck against something, and wouldn't open more than a couple of inches. He banged on the wood with his fist, trying to get the other men's attention, and tried the door again. He heard a muffled _ouch_ and then a shout of, “groceries, we need more groceries!”   
Sam couldn't quite make out whose voice it was, but if he had to make a guess he would have said it was Dean’s.   
Another voice joined the first, this one more out of breath and hoarse.   
“More! Lots more!” Possible Cas called. Potentially Dean joined in, with shouts of “more! MORE!” Until both voices were harmonised in chants of _more_ and nonsensical grunts and groans.   
Sam slammed the closed door in revulsion, hands clasped firmly over his ears with a look of pure horror spreading over his face as he ran out of the motel quickly as he could. 

*   *   *   *   *  
  
Dean paused briefly in his actions, standing to be able to reach the handle on the door, locking it with a flick of the latch. His naked body was still glistening from the sweat of their previous activities, face flushed, hair half sticking up in all directions from where Cas’ hands had been, and half plastered to his forehead.

“Don’t want any more disruptions,” he said with a cocky grin, straddling back over Cas’ waist, making himself comfortable with a roll of his hips. Cas didn’t look like he would have notice if a whole army of demons paraded into their room at that moment, a dazed expression on his grinning face, attention solely focused on Dean, and most importantly what he was doing with his hands. Dean dragged his fingers up Cas’ inner thighs, going excruciatingly slowly, gently teasing.

“Hhhnnnhggh,” Cas replied, panting shallowly, adding “GaaaAAH!” as Dean’s hands reached their goal, gripping tightly and flicking his wrist in a way that drove Cas wild. Dean smirked playfully at Cas’ reaction, repeating the movement, making Cas writhe beneath him, his body arching, sweat beading on his forehead, eyes screwed up and his teeth gritted as he moaned in pleasure.   

Dean’s hands stilled a fraction, one reaching to brush a strand of damp hair from Cas’ eye’s. Cas took advantage of the momentary peace, retaliated by pushing Dean off him so he was lying on the floor in amongst their abandoned clothes, Cas now having the dominant position over him, Dean trapped between his legs as he lowered himself carefully on top, so they were face to face. Cas laughed gently, his breath ghosting over Dean’s face, cooling the hot sweat on ther and making Dean involuntarily tip his head back, lips seaking Cas’. Cas allowed a gentle and lingering kiss, before pulling back and growling down, “Now where were we?” his eyes glinting overly bright, their cool blue colour taking over Dean’s vision until it was all he could see.

Dean swallowed, gripping tightly onto Cas’ shoulders, unable to reply.

  *   *   *   *   *   *

Sam hadn't made eye contact with either Cas or Dean when he arrived back a few hours later, after first calling to check it was clear to return.

Cas handed him one of the bottles of beer Sam had bought earlier and had abandoned outside the door as he had made his speedy escape, as a way of apology.  
Dean just clapped him on the back, commenting “at least you didn't see anything this time.”  
Sam shivered, putting the beer down on a table, not feeling like ingesting anything at that moment. 

Dean didn’t notice. He was too busy lost in thought, or more precisely, a pair of powerful blues eyes, and busy wondering to himself; when had Cas’ crappy dirty talk started to get so... hot?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I may have accidentally started writing a Sabriel sort-of-sequel to this, following the same characters from this fic.  
> So keep an eye out...

**Author's Note:**

> Got kinda sappy at the end there... Whoops..  
> Thinking of adding an epilogue, so keep an eye out for up dates  
> Thanks for reading!  
> If you spot any mistakes, feel free to late me know


End file.
